


Le bon vin

by Arithanas



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Drunk Blow Jobs, Happy couples, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stealing Royal property
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:47:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8935519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: Lorraine had been a courtier for far too many years. The first rule of living in the shadow of the throne has been branded in his heart from a very young age: contentment sends you to exile.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkadiofWinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkadiofWinter/gifts).



> _Le bon vin m’endort,_   
>  _l’amour me réveille_   
>  _Le bon vin m’endort,_   
>  _l’amour me réveille encore!_

Philippe of Lorraine was certainly not a man to be intimidated by the splendor of the new palace. All the decorations were stunning for a humble hunting lodge and the court always bring the festivities with them. To see so many people going about their business with the secret intention of passing over anyone to obtain a modicum of power was amusing to say the least. To survive in that storm of contradictory pursuits, a witty courtier without many resources must find shelter, the higher the better.

The problem with higher shelters, of course, is how much is exposed to changing wind. For his own safety, Lorraine carved himself a nice niche in one of the highest peaks; it was his misfortune that it was one who frequently suffers from the unpredictable assault of ennui and apathy.

In order to keep his shelter, the Chevalier must display an array of approaches to keep his place as Monsieur’s favorite entertainment. A small part of his wicked spirit treasured the idea of being loved without reserves, but Lorraine had been a courtier for far too many years. The first rule of living in the shadow of the throne has been branded in his heart from a very young age: contentment sends you to exile.

And that’s was the reason why, while couples turned and danced to the rhythm of the King’s new dance and Monsieur was leaving the party, the Chevalier of Lorraine has just returned from stealing a jug from the King’s wine. Maybe it was an audacious move, but outstanding gestures were never amiss.

“Alas! We have lost the best ornament of the room!” The Chevalier quipped and opened his arms.

A great arrival was also a good skill to possess to survive while in court but Monsieur Philippe d’Orleans’s smile faded as soon as he noticed the crystal decanter in his lover’s hand.

“I sense mischief.” Monsieur sighed and allowed his head hang back.

“Don’t expose your neck, my love, or I will not be held responsible for my next actions.” The Chevalier warned. “Don’t sulk. Taste the best wine of the house.”

“Everyone is receiving the same wine.”

“This one belongs to the King’s table.”

“And that’s exactly the same liquid we are all pouring in out cups.” Monsieur again sighed, deeply, showing the Chevalier his empty cup. Monsieur’s voice betrayed his intoxicated state. 

“But in a fancy jar.” The Chevalier lifted the decanter to see it better by the light of the chandeliers. “Cut glass, it seems to be. Within this vessel it looks pretty important and suggests it will taste better.”

“Of the same cask and the same vineyard,” Monsieur insisted, waving the cup.

With a big grin, the Chevalier halted his movement. Monsieur’s pulse was quick and tangible under the Chevalier’s fine gloves.

“Lend yourself to the pretense and you’ll discover this wine will taste better in your mouth,” the Chevalier teased, pouring a good portion of its contents into Phillipe’s cup.

“That’s what you are promising me?” Phillipe didn’t look impressed. “Some lies that you stole from someone else?”

Lorraine saw Monsieur play with the cup. Those long fingers were too fine for that cup, but the Chevalier lacked an appropriate way to praise him. It would seem he had believed his own invention and the wine had gone to his head too soon.

“Do you want a more solid offer?”

“The brother to your King deserves anything less?”

These were the kind of scenes where a well calculated movement could change everything and the Chevalier didn’t stop to calculate the damage, because he couldn’t allow himself even the thought of failure. With his greatest, most smug smile he could muster, the Chevalier poured a healthy amount of wine into his mouth, spilling some of it onto his fine batiste necktie. Monsieur watched his favorite’s antics, snickered and cupped the Chevalier’s face before he locked their lips together.

Wine flowed between them as their tongues touched. Both of them swayed close together, enjoying the flavor of their drink. The Chevalier closed his eyes and tilted his head a bit. A fine thread of wine spilled from their caressing lips, seeping through their beautiful clothes, marking them with indelible stains. Neither of them could find a motivation to care for the mess. The Chevalier pushed against Monsieur and they stumbled toward the wall.

Monsieur, obligingly, ran his left hand over his lover and relieved him from the unwanted weight of the decanter before the Chevalier even thought to free his hand himself. Without pause, and with a hurry left unheard, the Chevalier undid the buttons of Monsieur’s vest, exposing the fine fabric of his shirt. In the same movement, the Chevalier bent his head and nibbled the exposed flesh on his way down towards Monsieur’s breeches.

Pinned between his lover and the wall, Monsieur trembled and sighed. The sigh contained yearning, a plea rather than annoyance. Monsieur’s free hand pulled up his shirt higher and exposed his bared skin in a silent appeal.

The Chevalier kissed and licked the pale skin as his hands undid the laces of Monsieur’s breaches. His tongue traced curvilinear designs in the delicate, dark hair that he found there, following it as it continued downwards. His knees buckled as soon as the breeches gave way and exposed the hard, pulsating cock.

“Go on,” Monsieur moaned, raising his left hand. “Your mouth is required for its proficiency, my dearest.”

Lust required no spur, and voracity asked for no wings. The Chevalier complied with hands and lips. The light allowed him to bear witness to Monsieur’s aroused cock before his fingers pulled back the foreskin to reveal the proof of pleasure visible over the crown.

Monsieur, in one genial moment of clarity, poured his brother’s good wine over his straining cock and the Chevalier sucked it up eagerly. Even his best effort and considerable skill couldn’t prevent more stains on their clothes.

The Chevalier lapped the wine unabashedly, noisily and avidly. His hands were deep into the breeches of Monsieur, cradling his balls on the palm of his hand with conviction only of those used to the task by way of repetition had. The quivering flesh and the silky hair surrounding it aroused him and made him toil harder.

Monsieur gulped another mouthful of wine and buried his hand deep into his lover’s hair. The lack of purpose of his caress, the very absence of concerted aim, betrayed how pressed Monsieur was to achieve his satisfaction more explicitly than the unending moans escaping his throat.

Even in the throes of passion, the Chevalier knew his objective had been fulfilled. The man trembling and moaning under his caress couldn’t do without his presence. And that was the last coherent thought his mind could form before losing himself in the void of pleasure and the joys of the good wine

.

**Author's Note:**

> My gratitude to colbert for agreeing to catch my mistakes. And I should thank you too, SkadiofWinter, for the chance to write a MonChevy fic!


End file.
